by Lily Harlem
“Give it to him, Hayley,” Gabe said, excitement lacing his voice.
I eased in some more, watching the black shaft disappear into Brent. It was so big but he kept on taking it, higher and higher, his anus stretching thin and shiny around it.
“Oh, my fucking God, that’s so…deep,” Brent groaned.
“Almost there…” Gabe said. “Fuck, you’ve nearly taken it all.”
Brent arched his spine and held his breath.
I buried that last section into him.
“Breathe,” I said, again rubbing his back. “Breathe, Brent.”
He huffed out a breath.
“You’ve done it,” Gabe said, moving up the bed. “You’ve taken Hayley’s big fucking black dick.”
Brent looked up at Gabe. “It’s…so…heavy inside me. So…deep.”
“That’s how you feel in me,” Gabe said, grabbing one of my face wipes by the bed and rubbing the lube from his fingers. “And do you want her to fuck you hard and fast or slow and sweet?”
“Whatever the hell she wants…” he said.
I pulled out, not all the way, then sank back in.
My action elicited a lusciously carnal groan from Brent and I guessed I’d given his prostate a nice blast of stimulation.
I looked at Brent’s long, tense back and broad shoulders. I gripped his hips and pulled out again.
Gabe moved in front of Brent, he was holding his cock.
“We both want you,” Gabe said. “Take us both, Brent.”
“Yes,” Brent said quickly. “Yes, fucking hell. Let me suck your dick.”
Gabe didn’t need asking twice, and as I entered Brent to the hilt, he slipped the length of his cock into Brent’s mouth.
Gabe gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. He wound his fingers into Brent’s hair and held him tight. A low moan rattled up from his chest.
My pussy was clenching around nothing, my breasts were aching and my clit rubbed on the harness. In my fantasy I had never envisaged this, but why the heck not? Me and my husband both pleasuring a new lover, at the same time, owning him, penetrating him and caring for him.
It was off the scale erotic.
“You like that?” Gabe asked, withdrawing a little.
“Hmmph…” Brent kind of nodded.
Gabe smiled and pushed back in. “Good, ’cause this is it. Come when you want to…” He glanced up at me. “Make him come, Hales.”
It was time to up the pace. I shifted my hips back then forward, watching the dildo carefully as I set up a deep, intense rhythm.
Brent went with me, bucking in time. Taking me and Gabe into his body. I tightened my grip on his waist and felt his balls slapping against the top of my legs.
He was coated in a layer of sex-sweat and the scent of him, of us all, drifted to my nostrils and turned me on all the more.
“Ah yeah, suck me like that, way down in your throat,” Gabe gasped. “Mmm, yeah.”
I looked at Gabe. He was enjoying fucking Brent’s mouth; his expression was one of pure bliss.
A new, feral noise rumbled up from Brent. I reckoned he was getting close.
Gabe heard it too, opened his eyes and stared at me. “Come, Brent,” he said, pulling his hair. “Let it all go, we’ve got you.”
Another deep, acute groan.
I pressed down on Brent’s waist so that the angle of my dildo entered him in a way that it would hit directly on his hot spot.
His whole body shuddered, his ass seemed to spasm around the cock then he jerked forward, his body convulsing and shaking. I quickly reached beneath him, grabbed his cock and yanked at it, hard.
Cum filled my hand, warm and silky, and I shoved to full depth and then jolted into him some more.
Gabe pulled out, and Brent’s cry of abandoned ecstasy rang around the room.
Again I withdrew, steamed back in and worked his cock frantically.
He collapsed onto the bed, towing me by the dildo with him and trapping my arm beneath him.
I lay on top of him, his wild breathing shifting my body.
“Ah…ah…yes, oh, fucking hell, yes, that was…it…” he moaned.
Chapter Eighteen
I was breathing fast, my heart thudding and my pussy was so damn wet. I dragged my arm out from under Brent.
Gabe rushed down the bed to me. He grabbed my cheeks and drew me in for a kiss.
“Mmm…” I said, gripping his shoulders.
“I need to fuck you,” he said onto my mouth, “now, here…is that okay?”
“Yes…” I panted. “I need fucking so badly.”
I looked downward and gently withdrew the dildo from Brent’s ass.
Brent moaned and squirmed but stayed flat on his belly with his hands beneath his face.
“Get this off,” Gabe said, dragging at the harness.
I tipped onto my bum and let him pull the toy and my knickers off.
Next thing I knew I was being tossed up the bed. My head landed on the pillow next to Brent’s and Gabe towered over me. His expression reminded me of the one he’d had when he and Brent had toppled into the guest room at Hardon Manor—desperate and urgent to screw.
“I won’t last long,” he said, prodding at my entrance with the tip of his cock.
“Me neither…I…oh…”
He tunneled to full depth, stretching me wide and filling me up so completely.
I shut my eyes and arched my neck. “Gabe…” I gasped.
“Mmm…”
“Fuck me.” I looped my legs around the backs of his thighs and clasped his buttocks. My breasts, through my bra, jostled against his chest as he thrust in and out of me.
I could hardly catch my breath he was going for it so wildly. My clit was being bashed over and over, the pressure mounting.
I twisted my head and opened my eyes.
Brent was staring at me, his lips parted and his nostrils flaring as he continued to catch his breath from us pounding into him.
I reached out, gripped his hand and squeezed. I wanted him to be part of my orgasm, feel me shake the way I’d just felt him spasm in ecstasy.
Gabe buried his head in my neck, his cock swelled to full hardness and I knew he was on his last few seconds.
I allowed my orgasm to consume me. It started in my clit, spread to my pussy and my belly then raced to every nerve in my body.
The noises erupting from my mouth were incoherent and gasping and all the time I stared at Brent, unblinking and letting him see into my soul, letting him see how much I loved Gabe but also how much I wanted him to be part of this.
“Ah, yeah, I’m fucking coming in you, Hales,” Gabe gasped as semen flooded my insides. He shoved harder and released more. He moaned then slumped, only just taking his weight on his elbows.
I clutched my husband’s buttock and kissed his cheek. I then turned to Brent, released his hand and brushed a damp lock of hair that was clinging to his brow.
One side of his mouth tipped into a smile and his eyes shone.
He’d enjoyed the show. He’d enjoyed being screwed by us. He’d enjoyed being part of us as much as we’d enjoyed letting him into our bedroom.
We lay for several minutes catching our breaths, me connected, physically, to both men.
“I should check dinner,” I said.
“Fuck dinner,” Gabe muttered sleepily.
I chuckled. “You won’t be saying that in half an hour when your stomach is rumbling.”
“Mmm…okay.” He shifted off me and I sat and reached for my knickers. “You two relax, I’ll get it sorted.”
“Are you sure?” Brent asked, half turning.
“Yes, you’re our guest.”
“I like being your guest very much,” he said, propping his head onto his hand and watching me pull my underwear up. “The aperitifs here are incredible.”
I grinned, then nipped into the bathroom to freshen up and put my dress back on then headed down the stairs.
The scent of dinner was strong, but luckil
y, when I checked, it was cooked and just keeping warm.
I glugged back a glass of water and stared out at the twilight stretching over the small patch of sky I could see from the kitchen.
Bloody hell. Had we really just done that? It seemed we had and it was so damn good I couldn’t wait to do it all over again.
But what about the elephant in the room now? The fact that Brent and I still hadn’t actually fucked. I was allowed to touch him but he wasn’t allowed to touch me.
That wasn’t going to work in a threesome if it went further than once or twice, even I knew that.
And being together, in bed, it was pretty damn hard not to touch. I couldn’t begin to imagine the sort of willpower Brent had needed to keep his hands to himself. It was just as well I’d been behind him most of the time and he’d been clutching the sheets.
* * * *
The next day at work I had a muggy head. It wasn’t because we’d had wine with our duck the evening before, or that it had ended up a late night chatting in the lounge about Brent’s court case later in the week—he didn’t seem to mind me knowing the details now, which made it possible for me to help out by making suggestions—it was because I just couldn’t stop thinking of Brent and Gabe. Collectively they’d stolen my concentration, held my thoughts hostage and made my body buzz every time I thought of us all in bed together.
I signed off several accounts and added notes to some of the junior associates’ cases. The sun had decided to stay behind clouds today and the London sky was gray, which meant I had to put a small lamp on in my office.
I sipped on herbal tea and started reading through a new case—a particularly complex custody battle—but my mind kept wandering. Memories of the night before blustered into my head uninvited. My big cock sinking deep into Brent’s ass. Gabe’s face as he buried his dick in Brent’s mouth. The way Brent had come with such abandon then watched me do the same.
I crossed and uncrossed my legs. The three of us were becoming so close as a unit. Oh, Gabe would always be my world, the love of my life, but sitting at home last night and having Brent with us, it had felt so right. He fitted us, him being there worked.
So what the hell was the next step?
I rubbed my temples and went back to the case. I tried to concentrate. I had to concentrate. I was charging a small fortune for my time and expertize and the client deserved a lawyer who wasn’t plotting when she could have her next threesome.
“Really, sir, I told you last time.”
I glanced at the door, the sound of Jeannie’s voice pulling me back to the present.
“You have to make an appointment to see Mrs. Stone. She’s very busy…please…sir.”
The door pushed open.
Brent walked in.
He shut the door with a sharp click.
I put my pen down and stared at him.
He wasn’t wearing a suit. Instead, pale cream slacks, a white shirt and a navy blazer. His cheeks were a little red as though he’d marched here.
I pushed my chair backward, the wheels rolling on the carpet.
He strode across the room, walked behind my desk, stooped and gripped the arms of my chair.
“Brent,” I said, looking up at his face.
He was so close I could make out every individual eyelash and a few freckles on the bridge of his nose. His eyes bored into mine—his pupils were large disks—and he came even closer.
I tightened my hold on the arms of the chair and clenched my belly. I’d just been thinking of him, remembering his face the night before as he’d watched me come, and here he was, right in front of me.
He didn’t speak. Just stared at me. His nostrils twitched, he was breathing heavily.
“What?” I whispered. “What do you want?”
He parted his lips, rolled his tongue on them then shut his mouth. He lowered his head another inch. Our mouths were a hair’s-breadth apart.
I knew damn well what he wanted. He wanted me. He wanted me and Gabe.
One small movement and I could kiss him. His lips looked so damn kissable and the desire, the lust, shining in his eyes, it was impossible not to see, impossible to ignore.
Fuck, I wanted this man.
My heart rate was skipping along; I could feel the pulse in my chest as though someone was tapping my sternum.
He dropped his gaze from my eyes to my mouth then down my body. I guessed he was watching my breasts heave against my cream-colored shirt; he could probably make out the delicate white lace bra beneath and see a hint of cleavage from the angle he was at.
Again I studied his lashes. They were straight and cast shadows on his cheeks. His eyelids were a little large, heavy. He had some of the sexiest come-to-bed eyes I’d ever seen.
I wanted to grab him, reach for his face. Kiss him hard and wild and show him the passion I had inside for him.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
Gabe.
Gabe wasn’t here. Gabe needed to be with us. Gabe had to consent to Brent and I being together in any way.
Brent looked back up. His brow creased into a frown and he shut his eyes.
Suddenly, he straightened and crossed his arms. He stared out of the large window at the gray London sky.
I blew out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll talk to Gabe. About us. About us being a threesome properly. But it can’t happen if he’s not okay with it.”
He turned back to me. He nodded, once—a quick up-and-down movement of his head that was barely there—then he turned and walked back to the door.
I spun in my chair and watched him.
He stopped, his fingers on the handle, and stared at me once more.
Something else flashed across his face—anxiety, need, apprehension.
“And yes,” I said, resting my hands flat on my desk. “I’ll be there, Friday. In court with you and Gabe. Don’t worry, I’ve cleared my schedule like I said I would.”
He nodded again then disappeared from my office.
I rubbed my hand down my cheek and stared at the door.
That was it. Brent wanted the same as I did. I had no choice now. I’d have to speak to Gabe, see if he could consider us in bed together as a threesome and without the no-touching rules.
Of course, if he couldn’t cope then that would have to be the end of it, because I for one didn’t think I could spend any more time with Brent and not have him touch me.
As I knew, a fire had been lit and now the flames were burning us up. Licking and wending their way around us, through us, and nothing could put them out.
It was be burned alive or go our separate ways and hope they became nothing more than smoldering cinders.
That was something I didn’t want.
* * * *
The next few days went by in a whirlwind of work. By clearing my schedule to make Brent’s Friday afternoon court hearing, I’d increased my daily workload.
I stayed late both nights. On Wednesday, Gabe was in bed asleep by the time I made it home a little after midnight and he’d left when I woke the next morning for an early session at the Magistrates court. On Thursday, he was even later than me. He’d text to say he’d got caught up in a partner dinner that had led to serious strategy discussions.
The free time gave me the chance to think without the distraction of work and I let my thoughts wander as I showered then made an omelet.
My emotions were much calmer than I’d ever have imagined they could be with a third person in our lives. We’d been so wrapped up in each other for so long, me and Gabe, but it all felt so natural to have Brent a part of us—exciting yes, but also natural.
I recalled Gabe in The Golden Goose, how he’d said he didn’t love Brent yet had touched his chest and spoken of his heart. The action had whispered a story to me that I was only just hearing. Had I been too busy to see it or had I conveniently ignored it?
Well, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. Gabe was in l
ove with Brent—or certainly falling in love with him.
Had he even admitted that to himself?
I had no idea. Gabe talked about lust and fantasies but how separate could he keep them from his emotions? His passion was born from the very core of him. He was a sexy man who’d always given himself so openly to me, and from what I’d seen, to Brent too.
Of course love was in the equation for him. How could it not be? And why the hell didn’t that new love scare me half to death? I was Gabe’s wife, his partner. Wasn’t his heart for me alone?
Until now yes. Even last week I’d have fought to the death to keep that for myself. But Brent…
Brent was different. He deserved love in his life. I didn’t love him but I could see how a person easily could—how Gabe could. Brent was special. He was everything I looked for in a man; kind, generous, honest. It caused me to feel sick to think he’d been cheated on, made to look a fool and hurt right down to his soul.
A stir of feeling billowed up within me. Brent was right for Gabe. He was right for us.
I’d do whatever was necessary to make things right for the two men in my life. Maybe that would include examining my own heart and seeing if a kernel of love was growing there for Brent.
Why else would I be missing him tonight in an equal measure to missing Gabe? Why else would I be fantasizing about him fucking me?
* * * *
It was Friday morning before I had any chance to catch up with Gabe—other than brief texts letting the other know of our whereabouts.
“What time does Brent’s hearing start this afternoon?” I asked, pouring tea.
Gabe spread butter on a slice of wholemeal toast. “Three, is that okay with you still?”
“Yes, it’s meant for a hectic week but it should be doable.”
“Great. I’ll see you in there.”
“Yes. I can’t say I’m looking forward to seeing Nadia, though.”
“No, Brent isn’t either.”
“Poor thing, she’s been such an evil bitch to him.”
“Yes, but she’ll get what’s coming to her, which is basically nothing.”
“I hope so.”